


For All You'll Overcome

by chromyrose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, IHX 2016, M/M, Nightmares, No Sex, Polyamory, Protectiveness, Threesome - M/M/M, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Asahi cries in his sleep. When it happens during a training camp, Suga takes it upon himself and Daichi to be Good Boyfriends and take care of their glass-hearted Ace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For All You'll Overcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mahwaha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahwaha/gifts).



> to mahwah: As a really big fan of DaiAsaSuga I got so excited when I saw you listed it among your top pairings, especially with Asahi being doted on. The inspiration for this fic came from a panel in Chapter 149, where Asahi tries to let Daichi know it's okay to cry by sharing, "I wake up in tears sometimes... Like when I dream about the dog I had as a kid." It was played for laughs but definitely stuck with me, imagining the reaction Suga and Daichi might have to witnessing something like that first hand. 
> 
> The title comes from the Fun. song "I Wanna Be The One."
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

During training camp the entire team bunks in the same classroom, with the desks moved out and their futons laid out in two messy rows of six. It's probably Suga's favorite part of the experience, even more than the friendly meals with guys from other teams, or the long bus rides into and out of Tokyo; for as important as it is that they bond as a team on the court, they'll never get anywhere if they can't bond as friends off of it. He even enjoys the furious twitch in Daichi's stern brow when he has to play Papa Crow and remind some of their second-years the meaning of “lights out.” Maybe it's because he's an only child, never having had the experience of sleeping with brothers or sisters around, that it feels good to slink down into his futon and listen to a cacophony of “good night,” “sweet dreams,” and, “if you drool on me again I _will_ shove my foot up your ass, don't test me, Kinoshita!” 

There's shuffling and coughing for a few minutes longer, but a day of matches, team practice, and a few too many penalties takes its toll soon enough, and after that the only sounds to be heard are Tsukishima's faint snoring, and even fainter, the cicadas chirping outside. Suga's body feels heavy, now that he's been still long enough to feel it set in, and for once his typically restless mind puts up no fight about drifting off to sleep. 

 

 

When Suga feels himself stirring, and realizes it’s too soon to be up, he quickly becomes irritated by the unusual whining that's interrupted his sleep. He groans and buries his face in his pillow, trying to make the noise go away, but it hits him a moment later where he is, and where the sound is coming from. Now that he's listening to it, it's less of a whine and more of a whimper, coming from the hulking lump in the futon beside his. Asahi has always looked kind of funny in his sleep, curled up tight on himself like he's not aware of his sheer size, like his body thinks it's still a teeny baby. 

He looks significantly less funny when the faint light coming in through the window reveals tear-streaks down his face. 

“Asahi...?” Suga breathes, but of course there's no response, because he's out cold. While this is far from the first time he's seen Asahi cry, there's something profoundly jarring about watching him cry in his sleep. 

He crawls out of his futon and over to Asahi's side, nudging his arm before taking a more firm approach and simply shaking him awake. Asahi jolts upright, so quickly that Suga reflexively leans away, and he makes a noise between a choked sob and a gasp. 

“S-Suga...?” Asahi's eyes are owlishly huge, and he blinks slowly. Suga watches him lift a hand to his face, then pull it back to stare at it bemusedly. 

“You were crying,” Suga supplies, his voice a low whisper in the dark. “Is everything okay?” 

Asahi's breathing is still choppy and labored, and he scrubs his face with the same giant palm before he mutters, “Yeah...”

For some reason, Suga is unconvinced. He sighs and leans closer to his friend, chest pressed to Asahi's arm, and hopes his presence has the same calming effect on Asahi that Asahi's has on him. He wipes the tear streaks off of Asahi's face where they're starting to dry sticky, and probably itchy. The kissing is new between them, so he does it shyly, soundlessly, just barely skimming Asahi's cheeks with his lips. 

“Suga, I'm fine,” Asahi insists, breathing in his ear; he's not pushing Suga away, though, and so Suga is reluctant to stop kissing him. He briefly considers waking Daichi, but he's not exactly sure it wouldn't just make Asahi feel worse, and Daichi can be outright cruel when woken before his time. 

“Were you having a nightmare?” 

“I... I don't remember... Really-!” Asahi adds when Suga gives him a Look, effective even though they can barely make out each other's features. “Really. I'm okay, Suga. Uh... thank you. Now go sleep, and I will also sleep. We have practice early, and if we're both dead on our feet...” 

Suga sighs again, more gently, and leaves another kiss on Asahi's face before he complies with the hands that are swatting him back onto his own futon. He gets under his blankets, and goes still for a moment before he whispers Asahi's name again. There's no answer, and Asahi is curled up again with his back to Suga. He's probably not asleep yet, but Suga recognizes his own helplessness in that moment, knows that there isn't really anything he can do for Asahi now. It'll be easier to know how to help him when he's not operating on half a night's sleep, and that's the thought Suga uses to quiet his mind enough that the tiredness in his bones can take over. 

 

 

The next time he feels himself rousing, there's sunlight on the back of his eyelids, and a room full of groaning and hissing voices around him. Suga opens his eyes slowly, savoring the last moment of inactivity he'll have until lunchtime, when all at once he remembers: _Asahi_.

Asahi, who is currently groaning and trying to fend off an over-eager Nishinoya by swatting his pillow back and forth in the air; his eyes are closed, which might explain why he's missing horribly. It's one of Suga's favorite little idiosyncrasies that he's got filed away about their team: the irony of Nishinoya being a morning person, and Asahi not. 

(Suga used to wonder if Noya didn't have a crush on Asahi, too, but now he thinks, and also hopes, that it was just his own feelings being projected. It's difficult to imagine why anyone _wouldn't_ have a crush on Asahi.) 

Noya successfully plucks the pillow right out of Asahi's grasp, and then laughs and throws it, and himself, down onto his stomach; he's rewarded with a loud ' _oof_ ' for his efforts. Suga should probably intervene, but he can't deny that seeing minimal pain come to Asahi amuses him, and anyways, Noya is the perfect distraction to keep Asahi from interrupting the conversation he needs to have with Daichi. So he rolls up out of his futon with a casual, delighted, “Avoid his lungs, Nishinoya, those are important!” and makes his way to Daichi's side. 

“Good morning, my sweet azalea,” he coos, getting right up into Daichi's personal space, in the way of the futon he's trying to set aside. Daichi rolls his eyes, and tries to pretend he doesn't think it's cute. It's a pointless front to put up, because they both know Daichi finds him adorable, but Suga supposes there must be some merit in keeping their relationship platonic in front of the first and second-years. 

“Good morning, Suga,” comes the calm reply, as Daichi steps around him and pulls the futon out from practically under Suga's feet. “Tsukishima looks like he's about to roll Hinata up in a futon and stuff him in a closet, can you deal with that?” 

Suga sighs with exasperation, turns to the corner where Hinata seems to be simultaneously cowering behind Kageyama and snapping at Tsukishima, and calls loudly, “Oi! If any first years go missing today, the rest will have to split his share of the penalties !” 

All four of them turn their heads, and Tsukishima is the first to look away. He informs Yamaguchi that he's heading to the bathroom, and briskly sweeps out of the room. 

“It's all dealt with, Captain,” Suga informs Daichi a little smugly, even as he moves to help him clean up the room. 

“How someone manages to retain so much dignity in the face of your serial killer smile, I'll never understand,” Daichi huffs under his breath. Suga laughs, and shakes his head. 

“That's so sweet of you to say, but I'm actually not here to talk about me.” 

Suga waits until Daichi looks up at him to continue; he wants Daichi to see his expression, to know that despite the playful tone, this is serious. It takes a minute for Daichi to catch on, but when their gazes meet, his frown is immediate. 

“What happened?” 

“Asahi was crying in his sleep last night.” The words tumble out of Suga's mouth so quickly, so plainly; probably because he can't contain them any longer. “He was... whimpering? And I woke him up, but he said he didn't remember why he was upset.” 

Daichi sighs slowly, looking over Asahi, who is arguing with Nishinoya that, _no it's not acceptable to wear yesterday's socks again, yes, even if they don't stink_. Suga watches Daichi, trying (not for the first time) to imagine how he sees Asahi. 

“If he says he doesn't remember, he's probably going to be defensive about it if we bring it up. Even Asahi has his pride, he won't want to feel coddled.” 

“It's not _coddling_ if we're doing it out of love,” Suga insists, except he knows that it _is_ coddling – they treat Asahi differently from how they treat one another. They treat him in accordance with his more sensitive, glass-hearted nature. 

“He's the one who said he hates when we treat him like something fragile,” Daichi points out, lips pulled into a frown. “The best we can do is just... keep an eye on him. Pull him out of the pit if he's fallen back in. But if he's fine, then...” 

The air hangs heavy around the pair of them as Daichi trails off; across the room, Asahi is trying to save his hair from Nishinoya's braiding experiments. Daichi recovers first, clapping his hands twice, putting on his Captain Voice to remind everyone that they need to clean up and get down to breakfast ASAP, because Fukurodani looks like they can put down a lot of food, and practice matches start in an hour, anyways. Those who were loafing start scrambling, and in the chaos Suga watches Asahi creep out of the room.

 

 

It's hard to gauge how Asahi is feeling over breakfast: he's quiet, but he's always quiet around strangers, and Kuroo doesn't hesitate to bring Kenma over and plunk his tray down at their table. Asahi eats enough, but Suga can feel Kenma's eyes on him as he's trying to figure out if Asahi is chewing slower than usual, and opts to be less of a creep. Kuroo teases Daichi with his usual competitive banter, and Suga watches with interest as Daichi tries and fails not to be drawn in. By the time he remembers to look up, Asahi's already finished eating and excused himself. 

Their practice matches go about as well as Suga expects. Karasuno manages to snag a set, but the rest of the morning is a barrage of games interspersed with penalties, which makes it hard to tell if Asahi's run-ups are slower because he's lost in his own head, or just exhausted. Daichi and Suga keep up their usual level of encouragement, especially to temper Coach Ukai's tough love – nothing out of the ordinary divulges itself, and they don't get a chance to pull Asahi aside and talk to him in pseudo-privacy until the day's matches end, and everyone else is racing down to dinner. 

“Asahi,” Suga says, throwing an arm around his shoulder and then sort of regretting it when he can feel Asahi's sweat soak against his skin. He keeps the disgust out of his voice pretty well, and goes for something more breathy, almost seductive. “I was hoping that you'd be up for some spiking practice after we eat? I already got Daichi to agree to receive for us. It's been a while since we've all gotten to play alone together.” 

He waggles his eyebrows for good measure, and laughs when Asahi splutters, flushing a brilliant pink. Daichi comes up on Asahi's other side, affirms that yes, Suga is talking about volleyball, and that yes, his eyebrows are behaving wildly inappropriately. Suga hears Daichi's tone soften as he adds, “We really do want you to play with us.” 

Asahi looks down to the ground, but Suga spies the shy smile he's trying to smother, and he can't help it when he reaches for Asahi's hand and twines their fingers together. Physical affection comes so easily to him, especially with Daichi and Asahi; it has since they were fifteen and just getting to know each other. Now they're seventeen and learning one another in new ways, and Suga is more than a little resentful that they live in early 21st century Japan, where loving one boy is troublesome, much less two at once. 

He keeps those thoughts to himself, and nudges Asahi's shoulder, angling for a verbal response. “Will you make us the happiest guys in Tokyo and do us the honor of being our spiker?” 

“Suga,” Asahi clicks his tongue, and yes, he's _still_ trying to pretend he isn't as amused as he is. But there's a twitch in the corners of his mouth that completely betrays him, and Asahi succumbs to it. “Yeah, okay. Yes. But really... the happiest boys in Tokyo?” 

“Don't underestimate how much Suga loves tossing for you,” Daichi replies casually. “Or how much I like watching you both.” 

Asahi makes a weird choked noise, and Daichi claps him on the arm with a broad grin. Suga watches them both with warmth in his chest, but the mood is destroyed by a loud grumble from his stomach. Daichi and Asahi both raise their brows; Daichi just the one, but Asahi both. Suga tries to remember if they've both always had the habit, or if one of them picked it up from the other. It's a futile exercise, but one that he does whenever he notices a common mannerism between any of them. It's immensely satisfying, to think they may have changed each other so fundamentally.

Daichi ushers him to the cafeteria, calling for Asahi to follow them. They sit together for dinner, just as they did for breakfast and lunch, but there's no conversation, this time. There is just the click of chopsticks against bowls, the sounds of their voracious devouring. Suga's eyes dart to Asahi in between mouthfuls of rice, and the quiet at their table reminds him of the meal they had after their last Inter-High match. 

' _Eat, and become stronger_ ,' he thinks, his gaze darting from Asahi to Daichi and back. ' _And it wouldn't kill you to trust us a little more, either._ '

 

 

The heft of a volleyball has always felt good against Suga's fingers, but lately it doesn't feel quite _right_ unless it's for Asahi's favorite toss – a high toss, slightly away from the net. Objectively, this is probably terrible for Suga's future as a player, but right now he can't bring himself to care. Maybe it was the month where tossing to Asahi wasn't an option at all, or maybe it's the reality of everyday, watching a younger, better setter have the honor. 

Whatever it is, the catalyst isn't what's important. 

They aren't quite alone in the first gymnasium, but they are alone on that specific court, the only ones using their net. Shimizu throws the ball in for him, and Suga takes a deep breath, feels everything slow down around him. When the ball reaches his hands, he directs it to Asahi with all the care he has to give. It's easy to tease Asahi, and to give him a hard time; it's significantly harder to give him open, honest affection and ask him to accept it. Tossing for Asahi might be the only time when they're both putting their everything out in the open, giving and taking uninhibitedly. 

Asahi hits the spike without holding back, and his body looks like a tightly controlled weapon. It's so different from the Asahi off of the court, who hides himself in too-big sweater vests and bemoans the fact that he's so imposing. This Asahi is all corded muscle and precise force, filling the space he occupies with confidence. His very movements demand attention, admiration, even though Asahi couldn't be more humble if he tried. 

Asahi hits the spike, and on the other side of the court, Daichi lunges for it; he makes a valiant effort to reach the ball, and it knocks into his shoulder. The ball veers off course, but hits the wall behind him nonetheless. 

“Hah!” Suga cheers, turning to Asahi with his hands up for a double high-five. Asahi is sheepish in his response, but slaps his palms anyway. They end up stinging a little, but Suga can't find it in himself to mind. 

“Don't get cocky over there!” Daichi huffs, shakes his head. “That was only the first one!” 

Suga sticks his tongue out, then turns to Asahi with a grin. “It sounds like Daichi thought that was a fluke. Let's show him what we can do.” 

Asahi hesitates for a moment, looks cautiously from Daichi to Suga to Shimizu and back, and then his eyes shut as he exhales slowly. When he opens his eyes again, there's steel in his backbone, and he nearly smirks. 

“Yeah.” 

 

 

They manage to keep themselves motivated to stay on the court much longer than should be possible. Even after Shimizu excuses herself and bids them all a goodnight, they stay there for another hour, switching from spikes to serves, from serves to receives. Asahi collapses first, falling to his knees and begging for mercy, or at least a shower. It hits Suga all at once that his shirt is a few shades darker than it was when he put it on, and way more clingy; he immediately seconds the motion for a shower, and Daichi’s on-board, too. 

There's a _sento_ up the street from the hosting school, where they're allowed to go for their baths. When they get there, they're lucky to find that it's surprisingly empty, and Suga opts not to question this bit of good fortune, but thanks whichever God is out there for the privacy nonetheless. They get undressed and head for the showers to wash up, and without exchanging any words Daichi and Suga both agree to keep Asahi between them. 

The clean water feels blissful on Suga's sticky skin, especially running through his matted, stringy hair, and for a long moment he lets his eyes fall shut and just enjoys the warmth, indulges in the thought of the long day rolling off his body and down the drain. 

He can't help but sneak glances at Asahi out of the corner of his eye, and his reasons aren't entirely selfless, either.

Asahi's hair is lathered up with shampoo, piled on top of his head like a pompadour. He's looking down between at his feet as his hands slowly move over his head, like his arms can't handle going any faster. Beyond him, Suga notices that Daichi, also in the middle of washing his hair, is looking their way as well. 

Asahi sighs a little dramatically, lets his shoulders roll as he drops his arms, and then tilts his head back under the running water to rinse the shampoo out. When his hair is clear he runs his fingers through it, turns the water off, and then sighs again and looks at Suga. 

“I know you've been worried about me. I could feel you watching me all day.” 

He looks so pathetic, with wet clumps of hair falling over his face, deep bags under his eyes a little like bruises. Suga is torn between wanting to reach out and hold him, and feeling appropriately chastised for having been caught. But Asahi doesn't really look that upset, and he turns to Daichi and continues. 

“You too, Daichi. I'm guessing Suga told you about last night?”

“Of course I told him,” Suga interjects, shifting the attention back onto himself. If Asahi was going to be mad, if he was going to complain about feeling babied, then Suga was the one who deserved to receive that ire. “You were crying in your sleep, Asahi, that's kind of scary!” 

“It isn't really,” Asahi insists, grabbing his conditioner bottle to fiddle with the label. “Actually, it's sort of normal for me.” 

“Because of your dog, right?” Daichi spoke up, surprising Suga. “You mentioned that once, that you have upsetting dreams about your old dog.” 

This is the first that Suga is hearing of this, but Asahi nods and gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Sometimes it's that, yeah, but there are other things. I meant it when I said I didn't remember what I was dreaming about when you woke me up, Suga. It's not really a big deal. Some people talk in their sleep, or snore, and I just happen to cry. Could be worse; my older brother used to sleepwalk and run into the walls when he was a kid.” 

Suga frowns, frustrated with the way Asahi is always so ready to brush off the attention he gets, shifting it onto something or someone else so he can keep out of the spotlight. He picks up his stool and shifts over, until he's perching himself down right beside Asahi and grabbing the bottle out of his hands. He uncaps it and puts a dollop of product in his hands, then plunges his fingers into Asahi's hair. 

“I'm not in love with your brother, or anyone who sleep-talks or snores,” he says softly, playing with the ends of Asahi's hair. “I'm in love with Daichi, and I'm in love with you. And when something bad happens to the people I care about, even if it's normal to you, it bothers me. So please don't pretend like it's something I shouldn't care about. Honestly, that's disrespectful!” 

Asahi stammers a little guiltily, and when Suga looks over, Daichi is grinning. He brings his stool over to them, too, and swats at Asahi's arm with his wet handcloth. Asahi squeaks, but Suga doesn't think he's actually scared; Daichi's expression is soft, and he follows the smack with a small kiss over the spot. 

“You know, you make it very hard to spoil you when you act like we're doing it out of some kind of pity. We like you, dumbass. That's why we stare at you when you do something alarming, like wake Suga up with your whimpering.” 

“We also stare at you because you're _gorgeous_ ,” Suga adds, relishing in the way the tips of Asahi's ears go pink. He kisses a freckle on his back, and adds, “Just look at this hair!” 

“And these arms.”

“And that chest.”

“And this di--” 

“Enough!” Asahi squeaks. “T-That's... I get it. Please don't finish that thought, Daichi!” 

Suga and Daichi share a glance, and fail to smother their laughter. Asahi whines, complaining under his breath about how he must be a masochist, because even when they're being nice, they're teasing him, but he loves them anyways. Daichi soaps up his handcloth and starts to wash Asahi's chest while Suga takes his back, and neither of them seems to be able to help but pepper him with kisses whenever he protests, until he stops protesting. Suga is delighted when he gets a glimpse of Asahi's face and sees how red it is, and he kisses his beard, even though it's kind of gross when it's wet, because for as much as he loves making fun of Asahi's goatee, it's almost cute on him with the way it suits him so well. Then he pinches Asahi's butt for good measure, and Asahi squeaks again. 

“This is getting really inappropriate-!”

“What, this? It's just a little skinship, Asahi, teammates do it all the time!” 

“I think he's got his mind in the gutter,” Daichi chimes in sagely. “What a dirty old man.” He kisses Asahi's throat after he makes this deduction. 

“You- I'm younger than both of you!” Asahi protests feebly. “You two are the _worst_.” 

“But you love us anyways?” Suga says more than asks, resting his chin on Asahi's shoulder and batting his eyes. 

And Asahi, with a smile he can't manage to keep off his face, just sighs. “But I love you anyways.”

With matching grins, Daichi and Suga finish washing Asahi, rinse him off, and send him off to soak, just in time for some of Shinzen's second years come into the bath.

When they get back to their room, Daichi has to break up a feud between Kageyama and Tsukishima, and Suga is pulled away to moderate the second-years' arm wrestling contest. Things don't get quiet until everyone's sentenced to their futons, after Daichi is forced to call for an early lights out. In the darkness Suga can vaguely make out Daichi’s arm as he smoothes a hand through Asahi’s hair, and the sight makes him warm inside. He reaches out, too, for Asahi's hand, and in the end they fall asleep with their fingers intertwined.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go to [fraud](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fraud). for being a most wonderful beta- and for reminding me that Asahi is in fact the youngest of the third-years (literally by a _day_.)
> 
> Check me out elsewhere: [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


End file.
